


Irascible

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Established Relationship, M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: T'Challa is in a...mood. While it seems fairly innocent at first, Everett soon finds that his alpha is more upset than rambunctious--and aims to find out why.





	Irascible

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授权翻译】Irascible/十分豹躁](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977057) by [bestvest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestvest/pseuds/bestvest)



> Hey guys! I'm a really big fan of A/B/O Dynamics, so I tried something--it resulted in this. I know that some people aren't into the trope, but don't worry! There will be plenty of non-abo fics in the future for Everpanther! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, please leave a comment below!

 

_ “My King,”  _ Everett panted; T’Challa had him pinned against the bed, nipping and biting at the mate mark on his neck. Everett had no idea what had gotten into T’Challa, but he wasn’t about to complain. Whether it be an out-of-season case of rut, T’Challa making good on his word to the Queen Mother of trying for an heir, or simply a rough day of work, Everett was happy to be bedded.

“You are so  _ handsome, _ ” T’Challa puffed along his collarbone. Everett’s cheeks heated in response, getting T’Challa to chuckle. “So beautiful against these blankets.” He pulled his hands from Everett’s hips to place them on the blankets in question, smoothing down the colourful duvet.

Everett wasn’t sure what to say in return, still getting used to being an omega at all—he’d been on suppressants so long, he’d almost forgotten. T’Challa didn’t seem to hold it against him, at least. In fact, T’Challa hadn’t even known he  _ was  _ an omega, when he’d first kissed Everett. For him, it had been an added bonus. Not required, but appreciated greatly.

T’Challa pulled back from Everett’s neck, cocking his head to the side. He braced himself on the bed with one hand, using the other to cup Everett’s face. T’Challa ran his thumb across the older man’s cheek. “I could never find the words to express how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” Everett replied soft, legs widening when T’Challa nudged at them with his knee. “Though I have to admit, you’re exhausting.”

“I am exhausting?” T’Challa asked, thumb moving to press against Everett’s bottom lip instead. “How so?”

Everett kissed at the wandering thumb, bringing up his other hand to cradle the back of T’Challa’s head. “I’m getting to be an old man here, you know.”

T’Challa scoffed, kissing at the corner of Everett’s mouth. “You are not old,” he promised, capturing Everett’s lips next. “Many omegas get married off at your age. You are too hard on yourself.”

“Those are  _ second  _ marriages,” Everett defended; he shuddered as hips slotted against his, rolling forward and pressing him down hard against the bed. “I meant more along the lines of you exhausting me when we have sex.”

T’Challa made a noise of understanding. “Ah, well. I do have quite the stamina,” he teased. “And my job is to love you, to protect you—” He propped himself up on his knees, wearing an unexpectedly  _ wicked  _ grin that had slick dripping out of Everett in an instant. “—And to  _ pup  _ you.”

Everett let out a soft, offended squeak, smacking at T’Challa’s arm.

“How do you even—” He brought his hands up to cover his face, shaking his head. T’Challa laughed at his embarrassment, leaning forward and kissing at his omega’s face. “—You’re going to give me a heart attack, talking like that.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t like a pup of our own?” T’Challa questioned, thumbing at Everett’s nipples and pulling a whine from him.

“Of  _ course,  _ I want a kid of our own,” Everett grunted. “But you have to be reasonable.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by reasonable,” T’Challa told him, smoothing his hands over Everett’s thighs and playing with the thin fabric of his slacks. “Is it not reasonable to expect a child between us?” He held up a hand before Everett could speak. “Do  _ not  _ start with me, Everett. You will bear a pup just fine.”

Everett slowly sat up, collecting T’Challa’s hands with his own. “T’Challa, look. Older omegas have a hard time having kids. You know that.”

“I have no interest in what your American scientists have discovered,” T’Challa rumbled. He furrowed his brow, and then nodded. “Yet, if there is some truth to what they say—I still cannot fight the fact that I love you.” He raised his eyes to meet Everett’s. “Whether you are barren or not means little—I enjoy you. Your company. Your body—I do not need a child to prove that our bond is worthy.”

Everett was torn between letting his legs fall open to submit to his alpha, and asking T’Challa what had gotten under his skin that had made him so concerned about all this. Normally T’Challa didn’t care one way or another, happy enough with Everett just being  _ his. _

Pushing away his desire to get fucked, Everett sat up further and folded his legs into a lazy cross. “Was it M’Baku?” he questioned; T’Challa had spent the last week on a diplomatic visit to the Jabari tribes up in the mountains.

“No,” T’Challa denied, lips turning down into a frown.

Everett cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re lying.”

_ “Yes,” _ T’Challa admitted, turning his face toward Everett. He carefully cupped the omega’s chin, smoothing his thumb across his cheek once again. “M’Baku, he…” T’Challa dropped his hand to Everett’s knee and turned his head from him. “He has made insults that are hard to ignore, about our mating.”

“Like what?” Everett asked, wiggling across the bed to press closer to T’Challa; the alpha was obviously upset now, no longer hiding the stress from his scent.

“It is not meant for your ears,” T’Challa responded softly, reaching over to run a hand through Everett’s hair.

“I’m ten years your senior,” Everett told him dryly, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. “I think I can handle some name-calling.” When T’Challa didn’t reply, Everett leaned his head against his shoulder and hummed softly. “Alpha,” he whispered.

T’Challa tensed. “No.”

“Tell me, please,” Everett muttered, not quite whining yet. “Alpha,  _ please.” _

Everett yelped as T’Challa shoved him back onto the bed with a growl. “Do not use that tone.” He tightened his grip in Everett’s hair, tugging at it and forcing the omega to bare his neck. “I will not have you concerned about it. I have taken care of it.” He pressed a single kiss to Everett’s throat, soft and sensual.

The omega’s breath hitched in his throat at the action, but he steeled himself against his need to submit. “Tell me,” he murmured, hiking his knees up—T’Challa let go of his hair as the knees knocked against his chest, creating a space between them that the alpha didn’t approve of—and his resounding his growl made sure that Everett knew it. “Don’t bring something up if you aren’t willing to talk about it.”

“I do not want you upset,” T’Challa said, nosing at Everett’s folded knees. “It wasn’t that he said you were infertile or that you couldn’t bear—it was…” He tilted his head down, his forehead now against Everett’s legs. “—It was not about you at all. It was about me, being unable to seed your belly— He said that if it was him, you would already be pregnant with your second child.”

_ I should have figured this was about pride,  _ Everett muttered inwardly. “You do know that’s impossible, right? I’ve only been here for six months.” He parted his legs slowly, and curious fingers danced down his thigh. “M’Baku had no right to talk to you like that.” He scrunched his nose in distaste; M’Baku thinking about fucking him was almost as upsetting as him insulting T’Challa.

“That… might have been why I hit him,” T’Challa murmured. He was crawling up between Everett’s legs, pushing them slightly apart to fit his shoulders.

“You hit M’Baku?”

“I was not thinking clearly,” T’Challa reasoned, more with himself than Everett. “Him, even thinking of mounting you—it sent my blood  _ boiling _ .” He kissed at Everett’s stomach. “I… I could not handle it. Nor could I handle him insinuating that I could not produce an heir—that  _ we  _ could not.”

“T’Challa, as much as I appreciate you defending me, you really shouldn’t have done that. He was just trying to get under your skin.” He shook his head when T’Challa pouted. “And he did.”

“He did,” T’Challa agreed, scooting up further between Everett’s legs. “It is not the way a king should behave.” He kissed up Everett’s clothed chest, wiggling slightly. Everett let his legs fall farther apart with a snort.

“Are you expecting to be rewarded?” Everett teased. T’Challa was nosing one of his nipples, running his lips over the covered nub. “You could have started a war with the Jabari.”

T’Challa grunted at the accusation, moving further up so he could scent Everett’s neck and the faint smell of arousal there. Everett had to admit, T’Challa protecting him (even if he wasn’t in any danger) was oddly arousing to his primal side. He hooked a leg up and over T’Challa’s side, trilling at him quietly.

The alpha pressed his nosed harder against Everett’s neck, rumbling pleasantly. “There would be no war. M’Baku can only take one action now—and that is to challenge me for you. No such thing will happen.”

Everett’s blood went cold at the very suggestion. T’Challa kissed at his scent gland, spreading his scent over it liberally. “T’Challa, I don’t like the idea of him being able to challenge you.”

“He won’t try anything,” T’Challa assured, smoothing his hands down Everett’s stomach. “While M’Baku can be impulsive and reckless, he is not stupid.” His fingers went to Everett’s sides, rubbing along them. Everett’s cheeks puffed out, still concerned.

T’Challa clicked his tongue playfully at him, turning his head to lay his cheek against Everett’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Ugh,” Everett grunted, placing his hands over his face. “I’m thinking of M’Baku thinking about me, like… like  _ that.”  _ He rubbed his palms against his eyes.

“Unpalatable, isn’t it?” T’Challa questioned, pulling himself off of Everett and laying down beside him. Everett rolled toward him, wrapping an arm across his side. “Don’t worry. Your King won’t let anything happen to you.”

“My King? Or my alpha?”

“ _ Both. _ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Well hullo there! Nice to see you again!
> 
> Song for this fic:  
> Tied Down by Jaymes Young
> 
> Credits to my beta for putting up with my spontaneous shipping <3
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Have an idea that you'd like me to consider for this pairing? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


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